Sticks and Stones
by Hollywithaneye
Summary: When a prestigious internship opportunity pits two sworn enemies against each other, they'll both do whatever it takes to come out on top. But when does hate begin to resemble something more? What happens when two people begin to realize that while sticks and stones can break bones, words can also break hearts? University AU, with a heavy nod to The Hating Game. (Lokane)


_Anonymous said: this would go so perfect with lokane - "Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?"_

 _For you, anonymous, I present the first part of the abomination you have birthed - a Frankenstein's monster of human AU and university AU with a heavy nod to The Hating Game._

 _Enjoy reaping what you have sown. Look forward to the next chapter soon._

* * *

 _Click click. Clack._ **  
**

The soundtrack of hell was not the screams of the damned, Jane Foster suspected. It was the clattering staccato of a keyboard being tortured.

 _Clack clack. Click._

Lips thinning with annoyance, she dared a glance across the table over the top of her monitor and met frosty green eyes that held a glint of sordid amusement, the typing only growing louder as she drew in a long breath through her nose.

Fantastic. Today was a Staring Day. Which meant it was also an Irritate Jane (More Than Usual) Day, which meant she didn't even dare ask Loki Laufeyson to restrain his troglodyte smashing of the hapless computer. The last time she had, she'd come in the next day to find he'd swapped all of the existing keyboards in the lab with some antiquated, horrifically loud mechanical ones he'd dug out from _somewhere_.

A time machine, perhaps. He'd literally gone back to 1997 just to aggravate her with noisy plastic rectangles of discord. She wouldn't put it past him.

"Is something the matter, Ms. Foster?"

She could feel the weight of his stare still on her, and realized too late that her face must have given away her black thoughts. Damn it. She hated when he realized he'd gotten under her skin. Schooling her expression smooth again with another long exhale, she plastered a smile on that felt as paper thin as it probably looked. "Absolutely nothing, Loki."

Save for having to share a universe with him. Of all the solar systems in all of the galaxies…

Save for his insistence on calling her 'Ms. Foster', as if she was some dowdy old matron straight out of an episode of Downton Abbey. Made all the worse by his posh, British accent.

Save for the fact that he wore button-ups and slacks every damned day of the week, every damned week of the year, regardless of the weather. As if t-shirts and jeans were simply beneath him, as if he wasn't just another graduate grunt like she was, slaving away at their research.

Save for the small matter of being her ex's brother.

And the cold, cutting way his gaze had swept over her the very first time they'd met - Jane so eager and euphoric and desperate to make a good impression on Thor's well-heeled family. That flinty stare had dissected her, taken in her department store dress and costume jewelry that screamed 'I paid for these with student loan money' and then simply…flickered away, wordlessly. Judgment passed. Message clear, no words needed.

She didn't belong.

That had been over two years ago, and the memory still made her want to grind her teeth. She and Thor had broken up shortly after that, and she could never quite get past the niggle of doubt that Loki had had something to do with that. A well-placed word in Thor's mother's ear, perhaps. Or Thor himself, even.

Regardless, she'd lost a boyfriend and gained a most unwanted associate when Loki had transferred to her university the very next semester. And of course, he was an astrophysics major as well. Whatever had possessed him to leave the Ivy league school he'd probably been attending and come to Virginia, Jane didn't have the faintest idea, even if the program here at Culver was well regarded. She more than half suspected it was just to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't get any more ideas where his brother was concerned.

The creak of a door opening drew her attention, and the rumpled head of their adviser Dr. Erik Selvig poked out of his office. "Jane, Loki…may I see you both a moment please?"

She shot out of her chair and scurried across the lab, working twice as hard to cover the space as Loki did with his absurdly long strides. At the doorway she barely nudged ahead of him with a well-placed elbow, and tried not to look smug as she claimed the only spare chair in Eric's office.

Childish? Absolutely. Petty? Indeed.

Satisfying?

Oh, _yes_.

Her triumphant grin faded somewhat as Loki simply perched on the arm of the chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, the lean line of his back turning half of her field of view to dove-gray silk. His impeccable posture managed to make the shabby IKEA abomination look like a throne.

It was the Personal Bubble Game, and she ground her teeth against the urge to shrink away and let him win.

God, she hated him.

Erik's tired gaze, the worn gray of old denim, bounced between the two of them and he sighed almost inaudibly as he settled behind his desk. "Have you ever considered how much further you could both advance your studies if you simply worked together?"

A sharp-edged smile slashed across Loki's face. "And where would science be without a good rivalry or two? What was Edison without Tesla? Koch versus Pasteur? Cope and Marsh and the Great Bone Wars?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Erik fixed him with a flat, unamused look that said volumes before continuing. "But in that case, you'll be very interested in what I have to say. I have an associate, Dr. Holger Sørensen, at the University of Oslo in Norway. Fascinating man, with some fascinating work on the cutting edge of astronomy and astrophysics…and it just so happens that he's interested in taking on a handful of select students for a research experience this winter at the Cerro Tololo observatory in Chile."

Jane lurched forward in her chair, mouth hanging agape at Erik's words. If he was saying what she thought he was saying…this was the sort of opportunity that most people in their field would cheerfully murder for. She was too engrossed to even notice that her shoulder was pressed up against Loki's side, until he shifted and shot her an inscrutable Look.

Ha! A reaction, even if she hadn't intended to get one. One point to her.

Steepling his fingers, Erik continued blithely on. "I don't need to reiterate what sort of opportunity this is, one that both of you more than deserve. Having the chance to study under another preeminent member of our field and draw your own comparisons against the southern hemisphere. However…" he trailed off before drawing a sigh, and Jane felt the air in the room deflate. "As criminal as it is, with university funding being what it is these days, I'm afraid we only have grant money enough to send one of you."

Long, slim fingers suddenly clasped hers and shook her hand with surprising strength. "My condolences, Ms. Foster. It was lovely knowing you, try not to think of me too much when I'm gone."

She blinked up at Loki, too startled by the sudden contact even react to his audacious comment. Only when the warmth of his grip began to seep into hers did she snatch her hand back and fix a glare on her face, the furrow of her brows deepening at his low chuckle. "You…arrogant…"

Brilliant. She couldn't even come up with a good opening salvo for the Insult Game.

"That's enough, Loki," Dr. Selvig chided, and Jane's glower turned on him as she caught the twitch of a smile at the corner of Erik's lips. "I haven't made any sort of final decision as to whom the university will send. Provided you're both interested, that is."

"I am," they both chimed in at the same time, exchanging narrowed glances.

"Of course." Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Erik folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Then I see no way to pick between you other than to base my decision off of the progress of your upcoming thesis projects at the end of this term. And to be impartial, I'll turn the final say over to a committee of myself, Dr. Yu, and Dr. Hynek. Is that acceptable?"

"Absolutely." Standing swiftly, Jane would have tried to beat Loki through the door once more if he hadn't bowed mockingly and let her through first in a parody of chivalry.

"I'll email you the rest of the details. Dismissed then. Good chat!" Erik's voice chased after them, ending in a snort of exasperation.

Picking her way back through the bramblepatch of equipment and cables that seemed to perpetually sprout in Erik's lab, Jane settled herself at the small table she shared with Loki that held her laptop and notebook, her fingers flying across the keys as fast as her thoughts tumbled with renewed fervor. She had this, she knew she did. Her calculations were so close to a breakthrough and there was no way that Loki would be able to come up with anything half as innovative as she, even if they were working on the same concept, studying dark matter and how it could possibly pertain to wormholes. And if she got this position, she could extrapolate so much from her observations of the southern hemisphere…

" _Cuanto quieres esto?_ "

Jane blinked at the foreign phrase, and lifted her head to frown at Loki. "What?"

Loki's lips curled in a Cheshire grin. "You know this is already decided. Do you even speak Spanish?"

"No. But I can learn." It was childish, but she couldn't help ducking her head back behind her monitor to silently parrot his question while safely hidden, her lips twisted in disdain. Of course he knew Spanish. He'd probably learned it from some private tutor at the age of twelve, crammed in between polo lessons and pulling the wings off of butterflies.

A beat of silence, and then he spoke again, sly humor warming his tone. "Didn't your mother ever tell you

that your face will stay like that?"

"Like what? I wasn't…" She trailed off, wrinkling her nose at being called out. There was no point in lying over something as childish as that, even if she was any good at deceit. She settled for glaring at the sliver of his forehead she could see over her monitor. How in the heck had he even known she was mocking him?

"I know you better than you think, Ms. Foster." As if he could read her thoughts. He shifted in his seat, leaning back to catch her eye and stretching his long legs across the space beneath their table, crowding hers. It was obvious he had no interest in leaving her alone until he got the rise he wanted.

"Oh?" The thought of being so easy to read needled her. "Regale me with your insight then," she challenged dryly, arms crossed, resigned to playing along for now. "I could use a good laugh."

Her only answer for some moments was a brow winging upwards, until he seemed to have reached some silent consensus. "Jane Foster. Born and raised solidly lower middle class, in a small town in rural Iowa by a widowed father of meager means. Your best, and possibly only friend, is Darcy Lewis, an undergrad studying political science that you more than likely associate with simply because she handles social situations far better than you. Your taste in clothes is unimaginative and tends towards the…practical." He somehow made the word seem like an insult.

"Your taste in music is probably equally pedestrian, if the occasional out of tune humming of Ed Sheeran is any indication. You have only a glancing association with anything resembling a balanced diet, your favorite color is midnight blue, you watch Dancing With the Stars religiously, and you desperately seek the approval of Dr. Selvig and his peers." He paused again, and his lip curled slightly, as if scenting something unpleasant. "Oh, and your taste in men is…questionable, at best."

The unspoken ' _Because you dated my brother_ ' hung in the air between them, garish like a neon sign. Blood rose in Jane's cheeks, boiling beneath her skin, and the heat of her embarrassment stole her words from her. She wanted to stand up and argue, to tell him he was completely wrong about everything. To fight back against the way he flayed her with his bald statements and left her feeling naked and squirming and so very _small_ …but what had she expected from Loki, really? Humor? The man had all of the warm fuzziness of a coral snake.

In fact, a snake was the perfect representation of Loki. Sleek and alluring in its own strange way, but cold and dangerous. Best kept at arm's length, if not further.

To think that once, some silly part of her had thought they could perhaps be friends.

"You're an ass." She wasn't proud of the slight warble in her voice. Half of her wanted to tear into him in return, to spell out just what sort of an arrogant jerk she thought he really was, and the other half was determined to be the bigger person at the moment. Eventually, it won out and she closed her mouth on the scathing response that bubbled up within her, settling instead for a scorching glare.

He scoffed slightly. "You insult me for being honest? Would you have preferred that I lie? Because I could have done that, and well enough that you'd have believed me. It's hardly my fault that you got exactly what you asked for and then resented it."

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a breath, counting slowly to five. "You know it's not the things you say, right? It's how you say them. That's why you can't seem to go one day without pissing me off somehow."

"And I'm supposed to apologize for your hurt feelings? I refuse to change myself for anyone. Even you, Ms. Foster." He eyed her with a cryptic frown. "Especially you, perhaps."

"Of course not. If you did, we might actually get along, and then the universe would implode," Jane snapped, and stood abruptly, holding onto the fraying threads of her temper through sheer willpower alone.

Why her? Why did he seem to delight in picking on her in particular? What ancient god had she pissed off in a past life to deserve being saddled with this cardboard cutout masquerading as human?

With a loud clack she slapped her laptop shut and tucked it under one arm along with her journal, bracing a hand on the edge of the table and leaning in until he was forced to meet her eyes. "You're selfish, Loki. And cold, and cruel." She broke off to rake him with her most disdainful glare. "No wonder Thor is your parent's favorite."

It was a low blow. She knew it and she regretted it immediately, long before his face went white and his lips thinned bloodlessly. But whatever he might say as a rebuttal she knew she wouldn't weather, and so she sped on before he had the chance. Survival of the fittest. "Listen to me. I will win this internship. I will prove my theory is right someday, publish it, and make a name for myself in this field. And you…" Jane straightened and lifted her chin, squaring her jaw proudly. "You will never be able to forget that once upon a time, you had the chance to be my friend."

Suddenly Loki was simply _there_ , her nose practically tapping against his chest as he towered over her. She hadn't even seen him move. And good grief, she'd known he was tall but she hadn't appreciated just how much higher he stood than her. How much larger, even if his frame was deceptively lean. A far cry from his brother, who'd dwarfed Jane in every way.

His expression was drawn in stark savage lines, and the air around them crackled with something frenzied and furious. When his hand lifted towards her she couldn't quite keep from flinching away, more than half expecting to see the biting arc of static leap between them. It fell back to his side, and he let out a small sound of disgust.

"Let us get something straight, Jane Foster." His green eyes, normally so frigid, blazed like witchfire as he bared his teeth at her in a mocking smile. "You and I shall never, ever be…friends." He flicked the word at her like a drop of acid, and she flinched again from the vehemence in his voice.

With one last dismissive glance, he collected his things and strode out of the room, leaving Jane to sag in his wake. Her heartbeat rushed in her ears and thrummed beneath her skin and she felt stymied. Frustrated, for reasons she couldn't quite name. She kicked the table leg once in a fit of pique, but only earned herself a stubbed toe for her troubles.

The smarmy bastard. He'd stolen the last word, and her exit. That was like…practically ten points to him.

That had to be it.

 _~TBC~_


End file.
